


Healing Hearts

by stylesharrys



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Good Draco Malfoy, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Recovering Trauma, this is a load of fluff okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:33:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27999060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stylesharrys/pseuds/stylesharrys
Summary: His soothing voice continues to whisper words of reassurance in her ears. He kisses her head, smoothes down her hair from her tear-stained face. In the middle of their Queen sized bed, Draco begins to gently sway them back and forth, codling wife as he does his son."Breathe, Y/N. You're okay. It's over, darling. We're safe; it's over."She comes to, slowly. Catching her breath and blinking away onslaughts of tears. She lets herself calm, take in the scent of Draco on his cotton shirt. It's over; they're safe.orYou and Draco are still haunted by the decisions of your pasts.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Reader, Draco Malfoy/Y/N, Draco Malfoy/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 46





	Healing Hearts

The most terrifying thing in the world is uncertainty.

The fear of not knowing the outcome of situations you have absolutely no control over. The fear of never knowing _what if_ you chose differently — took a different path. The uncertainty of the future, of how long things may or may not last.

For Y/N, it couldn't be more true. She likes control, needs it in her life to not completely lose her mind. And in circumstances, much like these, where she has no control or knowledge over the course of things that will greatly impact her life, she panics.

Things could never be simple for her — they could never be _easy_ for just once. The fear is not one of her fault; she can't be blamed for it. It's one she's inherited, one she's picked up from the years of change and manipulation.

It's the final straw now, the _final decision._ She doesn't want to make this one; she can't. They made every other decision for her, told her every detail of every possible outcome and how to handle each possible situation that may occur.

She has none of that now, standing in the face of death. She's alone, though not really. They all stand together or against. That's the decision she has to make. But together or against who?

He warned her, told her it would come to this. Y/N still remembers it, fresh as day in her foggy mind how Dumbledore sat her in his office, how he enchanted the walls to never speak, how he told her the truth.

_Harry Potter must die to destroy Voldemort. He is the final Horcrux — the one Tom Riddle never intended to make._

Her family worked with her Headmaster, came to an agreement. They would have Y/N get the Dark Mark, allow her to serve Voldemort himself. For Dumbledore knew the outcome of the war, he knew how this would end — he died before anyone else could learn the truth.

But Y/N did. She figured it out how she and Draco were simply pawns in the game. Yet the most important pieces. Without them, they couldn't have started the war. They set their children up for death, they both see it now.

And Dumbledore knew the whole time. He knew how the war would end, how everything would happen — and he let it. He knew how to stop the downfall of Hogwarts, but he didn't. She knows this now, she knows all of it.

Her family expect her arrival on the other side, her parents holding hands and gazing at their daughter through the rubble. They look scared, completely frightened and lost; hopeless. They know how this ends for them if they stray.

Y/N's fate should be the same, she knows it. Yet, her feet don't move. She stands with her classmates, her teachers, her friends. She stands with him — with Draco.

His parents stand next to hers, bewildered expressions on their father's faces while their mothers weep silently. "Draco, Y/N..." Lucius speaks, "Come, now."

Neither of them moves, feet planted solidly on the ground. They're overwhelmed with guilt, the realisation of what they've done truly sinking in.

They caused this; the downfall of Hogwarts. Forced to take the Dark Mark, forced to let Death Eaters into the school, forced to bring Voldemort back. They never had a choice—only the ones their parents made for them.

Their hands brush at their sides, a touch they didn't realise they needed. They don't look at each other, but Draco loops his fingers with hers until they're holding hands tightly. Knuckles white, chins quivering. They've made their decision.

The realisation of it washes across their mother's faces, but they know. Of course, they know.

Because through it all, they only ever truly had each other. No one could possibly understand the pain and anguish they've experienced: the threats, the emotional and psychological torture, the nightmares, the paranoia, the _guilt_.

No one could understand except them.

She squeezes his hand, and all hell breaks loose. Curses are thrown across the courtyard, the castle continues to fall. And for the first time, side by side, they fight. They fight for good. They fight against their families, their parents.

Draco is forced to watch as a Weasley kills his aunt. Y/N is forced to watch her father kill her professor.

She gets pulled away by a Carrow, grip tight on her arm as she's torn from Draco's hold. She screams for him, thrashing against Carrow's capture. He's got his hand full of her hair, wand pressed to her neck.

Draco doesn't hesitate, not when it comes to her. "Sectumsempra!"

Y/N bursts upright in a fit of gasps. Her chest is heavy, body clammy from cold sweats. Draco sits up beside her, tugging the young woman into his chest as he coos in her ear to calm her.

"Shh, it's okay. We're safe, it's over."

He holds her close; one arm wrapped around her back, and his other has his hand caressing the side of her face, nuzzling her to his chest. She's hysterical, like she usually is after the nightmares.

Y/N's grip on Draco's shirt is dead tight, knuckles burning white but she can't let him go. She never wants to let go of him — she can't stomach the thought of losing him. Never.

His soothing voice continues to whisper words of reassurance in her ears. He kisses her head, smoothes down her hair from her tear-stained face. In the middle of their Queen sized bed, Draco begins to gently sway them back and forth, codling wife as he does his son.

"Breathe, Y/N. You're okay. It's over, darling. We're safe, it's over."

She comes to, slowly. Catching her breath and blinking away onslaughts of tears. She lets herself calm, take in the scent of Draco on his cotton shirt. _It's over, they're safe._

Y/N doesn't pull away, not yet. She needs a moment longer, a moment to stay in his hold, his warm and safe embrace. It's overwhelming for her, having these nightmares, watching the fear in Draco's eyes as he casts an unforgivable curse. As he saves her.

Draco continues to rock them softly, keeping his lover close. "I'm sorry," she whispers into his neck, nose nuzzled across his skin.

It's always the same. She apologises when they both know it's not her fault, and Draco reassures her it's okay, that he's always going to protect her and their son.

Pulling away slowly, she lets Draco cup her face in his hands, wiping away her tears with the swipe of his thumb. Her eyes meet his grey ones, swimming in worry and concern. She nuzzles her face into the palm of his hand, reaching to hold his wrist and kiss just above his wrist.

"I'm okay," she repeats.

She is, she knows now. They're safe. Have been for years.

Her heart is still pounding, but Draco's touch and scent begin to coax her into a serene state — one she no longer feels impending fear and doom.

He regards his wife for a moment, counts her breathing as she calms down. Even after a nightmare, with discoloured and tear-stained skin, she still looks angelic under the warm light of his nightstand lamp.

And he's so in love with her.

"Could never let anything happen to you, or Scorpius, or Willow." His hand rests on Y/N's swelling stomach, where their unborn child kicks at the feel of her father.

Y/N smiles through watering eyes, resting a hand above Draco's. "I know, Dray. I love you."

He leans closer, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. Her lips are salty from tears, but he doesn't care, could never. Even then, she's still completely intoxicating to him.

"I love you, darling," he breathes against her mouth.

His forehead rests against hers, their eyes both heavy, but they know they won't be getting much sleep any time soon. They never do after one of Y/N's nightmares.

"How about we go and sit in the library for a little while? I'll make us some hot chocolate." His offer perks her cheeks up into a smile, and she nods, kissing her husband again.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

Draco helps her off the bed, wraps a throw blanket across her shoulders to keep her warm in the early morning chill. He walks her to the library, kissing her lips once more before he departs to make their drinks.

While it heats on the stove, Draco creeps through their home to their son's room. Poking his head inside, Scorpius lays on his side, cuddled up to the stuffed teddy bear he's had since he was a baby.

Draco's entire being is swarmed in warmth and light. He's grateful, completely. Truly cannot believe his luck.

He's lived to marry the love of his life, to have two beautiful children with her, to have a rewarding job, to be safe again.

Through the years, since the Battle of Hogwarts, they've faced many troubles and problems along their paths to recovery. They were in hiding for a year, trying to mend their ways and come to terms with what had truly happened.

They'd been the only light they each had. They pulled one another through the darkness, they found their way and made their peace. But even Draco is still haunted by his past. He doesn't hide it, would never hide it from her, when she's so vulnerable with him.

In forms that are not nightmares, Draco struggles. He's found cooking to be an outlet for when he's home, reading, writing, painting. They've tried many things to distract their minds when they start to wander to the events of the war.

But not all scars heal. Not the ones that will live on their arms forever.

Making two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, Draco's sock-clad feet pad through the house and back to the library.

Y/N is cuddled up on the chaise lounger, blanket now over her body as she talks in hushed whispers to her ever-growing bump. Draco thinks she's glowing, just like she had when pregnant with Scorpius.

With her by his side, Draco knows they'll be able to heal.


End file.
